ace, and the girl of the Red Hill could easily believe
it.

The crowd had left the inn as soon as the clouds began to break and a ray
or two of sunshine shone forth. Two ox teams were breaking the paths
through the town. The boys and girls went down to the dock, singing and
shouting. Mrs. Tingley and the foreman came behind.

Three other men were making ready a huge punt in which the entire party
might be transported to the island. Later the punt would return for the
extra baggage.

This vehicle for water-travel was a shallow, skiff-like boat, almost as
broad as it was long, and with a square bow and stern. There was a place
for a short mast to be stepped, but, with the lake covered with drifting
ice cakes, it was judged safer to depend upon huge sweeps for motive
power.

With these sweeps, not only could the punt be urged forward at a speed of
perhaps two miles an hour, but the ice-cakes could be pushed aside and a
channel opened through the drifting mass for the passage of the awkward
boat.

Mr. Preston had explained all this to Mrs. Tingley, who was used to
neither the woods nor the lake, and she had agreed that this means of
transportation to Cliff Island was sufficiently safe, though
extraordinary.

"Let's pile in and make a start," urged Ralph Tingley, eagerly. "Why! we
won't get there by dark if we don't hurry."

"And goodness knows we need to get somewhere to eat before long," cried
Jennie Stone. "I am willing to help propel the boat myself, if they'll
show me how."

"You might get out and swim, and drag us behind you, Heavy," suggested one
of the girls. "You're so anxious to get over to the island."

They all were desirous of gaining their destination--there could be no
doubt of that. As they were getting aboard, however, there came a hail
from up the main street of Logwood.

"Hi, yi! Don't you folks go without me! Hi, Preston!"

"Here comes that Blent man," said Mrs. Tingley, with some disgust. "I
suppose we must take him?"

"Well, I wouldn't advise ye to turn him down, Mis' Tingley," urged the
foreman. "No use making him your enemy. I tell you he's got a big
political pull in these parts."

"Is there room for him?"

"Yes. And for the fellow with him. That's Lem Daggett, the constable. Oh,
Rufe is going over with all the legal right on his side. He'll bring Jerry
back here and shut him up for a few days, I suppose."

"But on what charge?" Mrs. Tingley asked, in some distress.

"That won't